


The Final Battle

by startwearingpurple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:09:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startwearingpurple/pseuds/startwearingpurple
Summary: I wrote this one-shot for a collaboration over at HPFF quite a few years ago. Arthur Weasley's POV, the final battle between Harry and Voldemort.





	The Final Battle

  
Arthur Weasley ran through the crowded ruins of the Great Hall, sparing only a glance at the duel between Lord Voldemort and McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn. He couldn't concentrate on that at the moment, though the larger portion of the students and townspeople seemed to be watching them. His attention was on the other fight that still raged, and he shoved his way through to the front of the circle that had gathered round. The world had shrunk down in his eyes to this one, final fight.

His wife, the mother of his children, the woman he had loved for more than thirty years, was duelling Bellatrix LeStrange.

He wanted to jump in, to stop them, to protect Molly or fight Bellatrix himself, but he knew he could not – they were too intense, another person joining in could distract Molly for a crucial second. It was better to let her fight this battle herself, but he did not think he would breathe again until Molly was back safely in his arms. He could not even think of the alternative.

“Dad?”

Arthur couldn't drag his eyes away from his wife to answer the child at his side. She was duelling with her entire being, her face screwed up in pain and rage; he'd never seen her fight this hard, never seen her quite like this. She was magnificent; beautiful and terrible as she fought her distant cousin, and the thought flashed across Arthur's mind that he was very lucky to have this woman on his side, to have been in her heart for all these years.

“Daddy?” Ginny's voice registered this time, cutting through some of the panic in his mind. There was fear in her voice, and though he still could not stop looking at Molly, he put an arm around their daughter and drew her close, mussing her hair a little in an unconscious gesture of reassurance.

Bellatrix was taunting Molly, but she was making Bellatrix work – the women were fighting to kill, and Arthur watched in terror, willing his wife to get Bellatrix first. He had always known she was talented, known she could fight, but he had never seen her fight like this. He knew it was all for Fred, for their fallen son, and their other children and the grandchildren she was determined to see, the grandchildren she'd already started nagging Bill about.

And then Bellatrix was falling, Molly had won, and he heard Lord Voldemort's scream of rage, bodies flying past, and saw the Dark Lord turn his wand on Molly. Molly had turned to Voldemort immediately after Bellatrix fell, and as he watched his wife face off with the most dangerous wizard alive, Arthur knew that she had known all along what would happen if she defeated Bellatrix, had known Voldemort would turn on her next. Arthur felt his heart freeze as his eyes fixed on his beloved, maddeningly brave wife, and his breath caught in his throat as he raised his wand, ready to run to her. _Not Molly, not Molly, I can't live without my Molly_ -

But a Shield Charm went up between them as Arthur stepped forward, deflecting Voldemort's attention just as he started to bring his wand down on Molly, and she looked around for the source of her salvation. Harry appeared from under the Invisibility Cloak, and Arthur felt Ginny's fingers dig into his arm, heard her draw in her breath in a sob. His mind was spinning.

 _Harry was alive, and he had saved Molly_.

Voldemort was focused on Harry alone now, and the crowd closed in, forming a circle around them. Arthur stumbled forward, and found Molly, pulling her into his arms. He did not even care what happened around them any more, he simply knew he had to hold his wife and feel the life and breath in her.

Molly buried her face in his chest, clinging to him. He kissed the top of her head, then put his hands on her face and tilted it upward.

“I love you,” he said fervently, bending down to kiss her. “I love you, Molly.”

She kissed him back, her face wet with tears. “I love you too, Arthur.”

He was almost overcome by the sudden urge to shake her for putting him through that terrifying battle. “You scared the life out of me,” he said instead, wrapping her back into his arms.

“Arthur, let go, Harry is fighting-”

“Don't think I'm ever letting you go. Ever.”

She gave him a little push, and he released her enough that they could walk together to see the final duel, but he held onto her hand tightly.

Ginny had disappeared; he could see her red hair at the front of the crowd that surrounded Harry and Voldemort, standing next to Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. She was gripping both of them tightly by the arm, one white-knuckled hand on each of them, her lips moving in a near-silent whisper. Arthur led Molly to stand directly behind their daughter, and Molly reached out with one hand to stroke Ginny's hair. Ginny did not appear to register anything that was going on around her, her wide eyes locked onto Harry's form. Arthur could make out what she was whispering over and over now that he was closer.

“ _He'll win, he'll win, he'll win, he'll win_...”

Arthur looked up at the messy-haired boy he knew so well, his son's best friend, his foster son, and suddenly understood that his little girl felt quite as strongly for Harry as Arthur did for her mother. Times of war brought out those sort of intense feelings, even in the very young. It was how he'd gotten Molly to elope with him, that feeling that the world might end at any moment.

He looked around the circle to find his other children, saw Ron with Hermione clinging to his arm, both looking relieved and terrified at the same time as they watched their dear friend, and Charlie and Percy across from him, staring avidly at the duel with their wands still drawn, and a hollow-eyed George standing with Lee Jordan, and Bill further down from them, his scarred face unreadable but his eyes alight with emotion, and Fleur was gripping her husband's arm tightly much the way Hermione was holding on to Ron, and then Arthur looked back at Harry just as the sun crested over the crumpled walls of the castle.


End file.
